


Word from Above

by Kittyknowsthings



Series: Crowley vs Chairs [2]
Category: Good Omens - All Media Types, Good Omens - TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyknowsthings/pseuds/Kittyknowsthings
Summary: With the Apocalypse averted, a conference between Heaven, Hell, and a few select Earthly representatives becomes necessary.
Series: Crowley vs Chairs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697098
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54





	Word from Above

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as ever, to Noriann/MilleVisages for cheerreading and handholding.

It took until Adam had passed the age Yeshua had been nailed up on a cross at for Heaven and Hell to officially acknowledge that the apocalypse was not merely in abeyance, but fully averted, and a conference was called to discuss how things were to go from here.

Adam firmly insisted that said conference take place on Earth, and that Crowley and Aziraphale be invited. 

(Yeshua, too, had received an invitation, but had politely declined, as he was still attempting to figure out how to visit Earth without triggering the Second Coming of Christ-debacle. He thanked Adam for livening things up a little, as several Angels were still arguing scripture and definition, and asked if he might pass his invitation on to his mother – the human one – instead. His Infernal counterpart, in turn, thanked him for his assistance limiting them to one biblical disaster at a time, agreed, and sent him some popcorn and a smart phone. It marked the beginning of a fruitful working relationship.)

Adam had also handled the booking of a convention space himself, the old-fashioned way, no miracles, firmly capping the numbers of the delegations of the Heavenly Host and the Hordes of Hell in the process. 

And now, everyone was sitting around the conference table, most of them stiff and awkward.

Aziraphale was the only one who managed to make his prim and proper posture look at all natural.

Adam sat leaned back in his chair, relaxed, his eyes calm as the sea on a mild day - tranquil, but carrying the implication that a storm might be just around the corner. 

Miriam had thoroughly appalled the Heavenly delegation by first greeting Crowley with fond recognition and then cooing over a Hellhound. She'd sat down between Adam and Crowley, placidly staring down Gabriel as she did so, and now seemed fully engrossed in providing thorough scritches to Dog, who was curled up in her lap.

Crowley, after horrifying Hell with his own warm greeting for the Mother of Christ, had draped himself over not only his own, but also Aziraphale's chair with an impressive disregard for physics. One of his feet, obligingly shoeless, was in Aziraphale's lap. Aziraphale was patting it absently. 

Gabriel snapped. 

"Could you please at least pretend to be taking this seriously?"

"What makes you think I'm not taking it seriously? Totally serious, me," Crowley said, very cross that Aziraphale had used his truly unfair powers of persuasion to get him agree to a ludicrous list of things he was not allowed to say or do, because this situation really called for the popping of a gum bubble.

"Could you attempt to sit down ... properly? Please?" Uriel asked, face carefully impassive. 

"Listen, sitting straight is a thing I don't do because I don't do anything straight. Lounging on Chairs is my God-Given right as a Bisexual." 

"What statement of Her are you basing this on?" a minor angel asked with what looked like honest interest in beginning a theological discussion on the matter.

The angel was shushed by Michael while Gabriel was muttering about blasphemy and Sandalphon's smiting hand started visibly twitching. 

The Demon side of the discussion table remained quiet, biding their time. 

Suddenly, a beam of intense light with no apparent source shone down on Crowley, who, with the one brain cell not occupied with mind-numbing terror, fervently wished he was wearing his sunglasses, because that was really fucking bright. 

Her Voice sounded through the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

"Actually, he's right. It is."

The light vanished. 

Crowley toppled out of his chair, limbs flailing. 

But, to be fair, so did several Archangels and various Lords of Hell.

Several prayers and curses directed vaguely at the ceiling went unanswered - It appeared She wasn't taking any questions.

For a first public statement in several millennia, it was rather puzzling, but that was, as Crowley, Aziraphale, Adam, and Yeshua (who participated via video chat) reasoned over several bottles of wine, rather Her Modus Operandi.

**Author's Note:**

> And that is the most Frances will ever get to be seen in one of my fics.  
> (Did I just jinx myself?)


End file.
